


Midnight Black

by Cyberrat



Series: Blue, Black and Green [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: All participants are well over the age of consent, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Animalistic Sex, Crossdressing, Cum Play, Daddy Kink, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Father/Son Incest, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Insecurity, Lingerie, M/M, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Puppy Play, Slight feminization, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Undernegotiated Kink, slight age play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberrat/pseuds/Cyberrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, the Sheriff DID say he had a surprise. And what a surprise it is. It's probably a good thing Derek and Peter just roll with it... it's not like they aren't accustomed to a certain kind of weird (and very, very sexy).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Black

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoMoMomma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/gifts).



> This is the second (and last) installment of my gift for MoMoMomma. She's absolutely awesome and you should go check out her delicious stories and what a cool mothertrucker she is.
> 
> WARNING!!!: Please be aware of the tags! This story contains very, very, VERY explicit incest! Please don't read if it could trigger you - and that goes for the other things as well. There is no actual bestiality in this piece, but the protagonists - being werewolves - get very animalistic.
> 
> I also like to say: Derek and Stiles get called 'boys' a lot in this fic, however, this is just a term of speech. They're both over the age of consent and they participate very eagerly.

It was surprisingly quiet while they drove through the forest in the afternoon sun. John’s old chevy purring beneath them, the only sound breaking the silence. For others it probably wouldn’t have been so surprising, the silence, but for someone as intrinsically familiar with Stiles like himself – or, really, anyone who had gotten to know the boy for more than five minutes – it would be really strange indeed to know that the young man in question was sitting right next to him and yet... not talking at all.

The Sheriff glanced over for just a second like he had done for the past half hour drive. He was still greeted with the same picture – his son, sitting there without moving a muscle, and staring straight ahead. John sighed deeply and looked briefly in the rear-view mirror, staring at the innocent plastic bag on the back seat. He hummed tunelessly and started drumming on the steering wheel with light fingertips.

Finally, the old Hale house came into view. It still looked like crap – but at least Peter and Derek had gotten their asses into gear and started on the renovation. Thinking of those two made him think of the text message he had received.

_‘Gonna be there in a few. Have a surprise for you two.’_

_‘I’ve got one for you, too.’_

John was not entirely sure whether he should be excited or concerned. With Peter, you never could be sure. However, that was half of what made the wolf irresistible. He parked near the front porch, killing the engine and closing his eyes for just a second.

Back in their home, Stiles had been nervous like a humming bird, flittering around and not able to sit still for even a second. He had been babbling uncontrollably through the preparations and John only had let him get away with it because he knew that was how Stiles dealt with insecurity. The silence his son had fallen into as soon as they entered the car, though, was enough to let him reconsider what they were about to do.

“Hey, kid,” he said slowly, sounding awkward but soldiering on nonetheless, “you know you don’t have to do it, right?”

He looked over and Stiles was by now gnawing on his fingernails – or attempting to, because they always were cropped painfully short since he tended to claw at every surface in the heat of the moment and had given John some nasty scratches. There was a scarlet blush suffusing his son’s smooth cheeks, almost swallowing up the moles on them.

“Stiles?” he prompted gently when no reaction came for the longest time. Finally, though, those wide eyes turned to stare at him and the Sheriff only had the barest of seconds to throw himself backwards into his seat in order to give more room, when the boy scrambled out of his seatbelt and into the lap of his father, pressing his shockingly hot face against the older man’s neck.

John blinked once, twice, before slowly bringing his arms up and holding his boy with one, while he fumbled around with the other until he could shove the seat further back so Stiles was no longer in danger of pressing the car’s horn with his backside.

“Hey,” John murmured into the silky hair stuffed along his jaw, rubbing up and down his son’s back, “you alright, kid? Changed your mind? Don’t want do it, after all?”

Stiles whined, shaking his head from left to right and clutching at the butter soft leather of John’s old, brown jacket, which he wore over the long-sleeved T-Shirt.

“So... you still wanna do it?” he said slowly, frowning as Stiles slowly nodded but still kept himself pressed against his father. “What’s the problem, then?” John asked after the boy seemed determined to make this as hard as possible.

Stiles’ answer was so low – just a whispered squeak, really – that John had to sigh and let his head plop back against the headrest. He adjusted the weight on his thighs until Stiles was straddling him more easily and started rubbing the slender back in broad strokes up and down, every now and again straying towards the kid’s ass, while the other hand was lying heavy and secure in his boy’s nape.

“You’ve got to speak up a little and tell me what’s bothering you, Stiles. I’m no psychic, you know.”

His eyes strayed towards the house while Stiles tried to get his courage together. He was quite sure the wolves had heard them arrive but no one was greeting them – which was no surprise, really. Peter liked to be doted on like a king most of the time and Derek was pretty shy, needing to be coaxed out of his shell every time all over again.

Not that John didn’t like the challenge – to the contrary, it was one of the most breathtaking things to behold the skittish werewolf opening up and letting himself go.

“He’s gonna laugh,” Stiles said at last and his voice was so small and hesitant, it nearly broke John’s heart. He turned his head, pressing his lips against his boy’s forehead. He really did not need to clarify of whom Stiles was talking.

“He’s not gonna laugh, kid. Peter’s an ass but he’ll never laugh about something like that. You know that.”

Stiles squirmed against him, his hot breath fanning across his neck, making it hard to concentrate on the problem at hand.

“What if they’re not liking it? What if they think it’s stupid?” he whispered. John took a deep breath, his hand sliding down and onto Stiles’ ass again, gripping a hand full of the supple flesh and squeezing it gently.

“You look so perfect when you submit to me like that,” he rumbled into his son’s ear, pitching his voice extra low so he could feel Stiles tremble against his chest, “they will adore you like that, Stiles. You will floor them, trust me.”

His fingers danced along Stiles’ asscrack, loathing the fact that the boy was wearing jeans just like himself. They did not have enough room to really feel what was going on, but at least he knew. A soft press at the right spot made the boy gasp and mewl into his neck.

John fancied he could hear the squelch of lube around the buttplug his son wore.

“Are you sure, daddy?” Stiles asked, mouthing his way along John’s neck and leaving a moist path behind. There was a lighting bolt of unholy arousal shooting through the Sheriff’s body like every time his son called him that and he pressed once more just to hear Stiles whine.

“Absolutely,” he intoned, backing his words with steely determination in his voice. He would kill Peter if the wolf only so much as curled a corner of that fucking luscious mouth of his upwards. “So you gonna come inside or what?”

Stiles blew out a shaky breath, but by now his hips were jerking forward into his father’s lap with the most minimal of aborted motions, rubbing the warm bulge of his erection across the even more substantial crotch of his father.

John knew the answer even before the boy nodded slowly.

* * *

“Stop fidgeting, Derek. I said _keep still,_ damn it, pup.”

John frowned, closing the door slowly behind himself and throwing a look at Stiles who was clutching the plastic bag in his hands and was beginning to shed the catatonic mortification from just moments before – starting in again on his agitated humming bird act.

Stiles just shrugged his shoulders, eyes darting around the dark, ominous entrance of the Hale house. John put a large hand on the small of his back, rubbing warm fingertips over the soft fabric of his son’s shirt and pointing with the other to the staircase.

“There. You can change there,” he murmured directly into Stiles’ ear, aware of two pairs of wolf ears listening in on them. Stiles nodded again, his movements fluent but too _fast_ as he went to the secluded area, gingerly putting down the plastic bag.

While his son was occupied, John decided to investigate what was going on in the living room and what the hell Peter was making Derek do _this_ time.

It was not that he forced the younger man to do anything against his will – it was just that he had sly ways of coaxing Derek into doing things the pup would have never thought of on his own. The results were, admittedly, more often than not absolutely _delicious_.

“Derek, I swear to God, if you don’t – “

“HEY, boys,” John interrupted Peter smoothly and pointedly, sticking his head into the room and promptly forgetting what he was about to say next, since... wow. Just... wow.

John was vaguely aware of his mouth moving noiselessly around a few broken words while his eyes roamed across Derek, currently standing in the middle of the room and uselessly struggling against the grip of Peter who had both the younger man’s arms twisted behind his back.

“What are you... wearing?” John finally got out, stepping fully into the room and – yeah, that probably had been the wrong thing to say, since Derek’s whole face flushed beet red in a stark contrast to the light blue lingerie he had donned and the Sheriff could practically _see_ in the pup’s face how he closed off and...

“You look amazing,” he blurted hastily after a pointed and annoyed look from Peter shook him out of his shock of the unusual picture. He scanned the younger man again, taking in the corset and the flimsy panties he wore; there was a moist stain not only on the fabric but also on Derek’s thigh – the last remnants of hastily removed evidence of Peter-fucking-Hale not being able to restrain himself. The pup looked already debauched and still so _ready_ for more.

“Let him go,” John demanded of Peter. It was not something of concern to see the manhandling; if Derek really hadn’t wanted what was going on, there was no way in hell either of them would have been able to hold the wolf down, but... John didn’t usually like being rough with the pup and especially now he loathed to see the slight strain in Derek’s neck where he had to curve his back just _so_ to accommodate the grip.

Peter grinned knowingly, loosening his grip and gently nosing the soft hair behind Derek’s left ear.

“I know. He looks breathtaking, doesn’t he? Don’t want to harm a single hair on his pretty head...” the older wolf rumbled, slowly letting go entirely of Derek who turned his head away and brought his arms forward. They twitched as if he was itching to cover himself up.

“Yes. Yes he looks...” John lost his words once more, slowly licking his lips and finally walking over towards the wolfs. Not letting his eyes leave Derek, the Sheriff reached for Peter and pulled the man closer by an unrelenting hand on his neck. “That’s an amazing surprise, you got there,” he growled against Peter’s grinning lips, pressing his mouth against them and biting kisses into the sinful mouth.

Peter was only too eager to reciprocate, pressing his body close to the older man’s and giving back just as good as he got.

“You don’t have to... pretend,” Derek said, the first words out of his stubborn mouth. His eyes were steadily watching the action between his uncle and the Sheriff. John bit one last time into Peter’s plush lower lip before pulling away just the slightest bit, turning his head without getting out of the immediate personal space of the other wolf. He let his burning gaze rove over the pup and licked his lips slowly.

“You know better than that, kid,” he growled and – oh yeah, Derek’s pupils were suddenly blown so wide, the green of his irises nearly undetectable. “You look fucking _good_. So pretty for us...”

He finally pulled away from Peter who had been blowing his warm breath tantalizingly into his ear and stretched a hand out for the pup. Derek was still blushing a furious shade of red and did not immediately take him up on the offer. John pitched his voice low and did not let the uncertain gaze go as he murmured, “You can hear my heartbeat. I’m not lying, Derek... C’mere, gorgeous.”

Wriggling his fingers in invitation, John very nearly blew out a breath of relieve as Derek slowly took hold of the hand and let himself be drawn close to the older man. John buried his face in the crook of the pup’s neck, inhaling deeply while his hands roamed over the hard plane of the corset, playing with the strings holding it together in the back.

“So brave for us,” he rumbled into the moist, salty neck, “you’re such a good, obedient puppy for us, aren’t you, kid?”

Derek shuddered violently, his breath stuttering right next to the Sheriff’s ear, tickling the little hair in the nape of his neck. Peter made a soft noise of realisation from behind, obviously picking up on what was going on.

“Oh... oh that is... that is beautiful, that is _precious_ ,” Peter growled with so much glee in his voice, John closed his eyes and could barely refrain from moaning. Suddenly, he found himself in a werewolf sandwich as Peter draped himself against his back, nestling his head right next to Derek’s.

“You _like_ that, don’t you?” the older wolf whispered and John probably should make him shut up, but... he wanted to know as well – he wanted to know it so bad, his mouth became dry and his hands were gripping Derek’s hips with almost crushing force. The pup’s breath hitched and he became very still where he was leaning against the Sheriff’s front. Peter pressed even closer from behind, rubbing his heavy crotch against John’s ass, making him feel the beginnings of an erection.

“You like the sound of that... the _thought_ of that, don’t you, you little slut? Are you... _jealous_ of Stiles? _You_ wanna be the Sheriff’s little boy? Hmm?”

The words were poison – but so, so delicious. John nearly forgot how to breathe as Derek whined brokenly and buried his face deeper into his neck, sliding a little down and pressing it into the human’s chest so he could hide it from his uncle. Peter moaned low in his throat, hips twitching and grinding slow and dirty against John’s ass.

“That’s fucking fantastic,” the older wolf growled, sounding very much like he had found the jackpot and pulling back just to lick and nibble at John’s neck in his barely contained enthusiasm.

“The _things_ we can do with that...” he whispered against the Sheriff’s skin while John shushed the whining of the pup and drew him into an embrace, rubbing his cheek against Derek’s hair. Suddenly, though, both wolves froze. They were absolutely still where they were standing surrounding the human and it took John just a second longer to hear what they had been hearing – a soft tinkling and... how could he have forgotten Stiles for even one second?

(Well there was the fact that Derek looked like sin on legs and was smelling of the sex he and Peter had been having undoubtedly and how all of that had short circuited his brain...)

He had wanted to pull Peter to the side and have a word with him before he even saw the kid and now it was too late because he could feel the wolf at his back already turning and Derek was bringing his head up and stared over John’s shoulder, his face _falling_ for just a second before a multitude of complex emotions crawled over it, finally settling on _stricken_.

John’s stomach fell a little because of the two wolves Derek actually was the one more quietly accepting of things and if _he_ was already looking like that then he had totally misjudged everything and there was no way...

“Oh, now _that_ is...” Peter’s voice sounded rough and heavy in the suddenly still air and John closed his eyes, biting the tip of his tongue hard and willing the man with all his might to just not be a fucking bastard for _once_ in his life and don’t make this hard on Stiles and...

“... _magnificent_ ,” Peter finished, his voice, impossibly, sliding even further down and making him sound like he was on the verge of wolfing out. Derek growled softly and the stricken expression was now replaced by naked desire, his fingers uncurling from where they had been fisting the back of John’s jacket in order for the pup to step around him and immediately fall down into a graceful crouch despite the stiff corset. It kept his back rather straight making him look all the more like a very attentive puppy.

“Well hello there, little guy... now _that’s_ what I call a surprise...” Peter growled and John whirled around, staring at how Peter was taking a step closer to the entrance of the living room where Stiles was currently sitting and – yes, that _was_ a nice picture.

There wasn’t much to the costume, really – they could have gone with special gloves that would force him to curl his fingers in the way they were currently resting all on their own, but Stiles was still balking at the way they would make him completely vulnerable. So they had gone with a slim, black collar, just a tad loose around the neck of the boy and a matching leather leash currently attached to the D-Ring and curled in front of him on the floor.

He was crouching not unlike Derek, utterly naked – the flush of embarrassment reaching far down to his belly. The most prominent feature, though, was what was curling up from behind him – a bushy tail of soft, midnight black fur, reaching up in a graceful arc and curling forward not unlike the tail of a Shiba-Inu. From this position it could not be seen very well but John knew for a fact that the tail was attached to a plug inside the slick, prepared entrance of the boy and was snuggling along his asscrack to ensure the illusion of a perfectly fitting appendage.

Stiles’ fingers, curled into his palms to make his hands look like paws, were starting to tremble with all the eyes fixed on him and his shoulders hunched down, head ducking with the nervous energy thrumming through his body. His neck was just as fire red as his face by now. John made a soft noise in the back of his throat, taking a step towards his boy in the desire to praise him and tell him how wonderfully he was behaving for them – being so brave to show two wolves, of all people, what he so secretly desired – when Peter broke his silence and derailed all his thoughts completely.

“What a beautiful, little pup you are,” Peter practically purred and licked slowly across his lower lip. John watched him like a hawk, swallowing as the eyes fixated on his son started glowing red. “And you even brought your leash with you... so well behaved,” the Alpha continued, eyes raking across the shivering, naked body.

Stiles perked up at the words, head still ducked but obviously glancing up towards the man from beneath his eyelashes, pink tongue flittering out to moisten his lips. The fact that Stiles – who never could keep his mouth shut – was answering nothing in return, was indication enough as to how deep into his headspace he was already. Cramped shoulders cautiously started relaxing as he slipped into it further, making a ball of warmth and pride bloom in John’s belly.

“So perfect.”

Both Peter and John startled a little at the voice. For a few moments they had forgotten about the other pup crouching on the floor. Derek’s eyes were riveted onto Stiles as he slowly crawled forward and towards the human, unheeding of the lacy panties or the corset he wore. You could pinpoint the exact moment he remembered, though, when he paused and a short ripple of uncertainty rushed through his body, as Stiles suddenly raised his head and stared at him, eyes widening and mouth falling open as he saw Derek’s get-up.

Suddenly there were two young men crouching on the floor and staring each other up and down in utter amazement and wonder.

John’s eyes flicked towards Peter, seeing – surprisingly enough – the same uncertainty in the gaze of the other man as he himself felt. How would the boys react? Would it be too much? Too much novelty suddenly heaped on their shoulders? They should have probably talked through all of this before springing up any surprises...

The moment stretched, though, without any of the pups backing down. It stretched and stretched, until Stiles suddenly whined softly in his throat and Derek groaned deep in reply and just like that – everything clicked into place and it felt just _right_ and _amazing_ to watch as Derek stretched out in order to sniff at the face of Stiles, snuffling over to his ear and down to his neck, rubbing the tip of his nose unashamedly against the skin.

“You look amazing...” he growled, the soft scratch of his suddenly sharp claws against the boards of the floor loud as he inspected Stiles, crawling around him and rubbing his stubbled cheeks between the younger man’s shoulder blades. Stiles whined softly once more, eyes wide and pupils blown as he wriggled uncertainly beneath the attention of a werewolf.

John was not even sure whether the sniffing going on was sexual or not – but it looked fucking amazing either way.

Stiles was still sitting in a half-crouch, ass not entirely touching the heels of his feet in deference to the plug no doubt, when Derek _crawled over him_ , instantly dwarfing the boy with his large body and causing the tension in the room to skyrocket because _damn it_ , this looked filthy and animalistic and _perfect_.

Derek was by now growling nearly constantly, mouthing Stiles’ neck while the boy looked punch-drunk on the headspace he had slipped into, twisting uncertainly beneath the large wolf and pressing his ass up shyly into the curve of the other pup’s hip.

“Stop!” The demand was spoken with a growled authority that made even John stand up just that little bit straighter. Heads snapped up and around in order to stare at Peter, eyes glowing red; fangs sharp and dangerous.

“He’s mine,” he hissed, hunched forward just that little bit to give him that edge of animalism that sent shudders up and down John’s spine. Derek whined, face pressing into the back of Stiles’ head, obviously loath to leave his place on top of the boy. Peter curled his hands into tight fists, snarling viciously at the other wolf, obviously prepared to fight for the human if Derek did not back down.

Stiles’ mouth was hanging open in an effort to suck enough air into his lungs while he sat there looking like a deer in the headlights, unable to move himself out from beneath the greater bulk of Derek. For a few tense seconds neither of the wolves backed down, riled up by the surprising display of Stiles as a puppy.

John had figured they would like it – find it cute, probably – but he had not taken into account how much the wolves would _love_ to see Stiles like this; to have him as some kind of pack member.

And as such, it would probably be wise to give the Alpha the reigns at first, placing the Sheriff effectively in the position of coaxing Derek out of the line of fire and to keep him occupied; which was, given how the pup was dressed right now, no hardship at all.

Deliberately stepping forward, John pitched his voice low while extending his hand to both of the boys crouching in the doorway.

“Derek,” he said and felt deep satisfaction radiating through his body when the glowing blue eyes immediately landed on him, “Come, I’ll take care of you while Stiles and Peter are playing...”

And when there was just the barest of hesitations – Derek lowering his head just a little bit to snuffle once more into Stiles’ neck – John went for broke and rasped with a husky voice, “Come to daddy, boy.”

Stiles’ head snapped up and two pairs of eyes stared at him – both equal parts incredulous and, yes, turned on beyond believe. Derek’s pupils were blown wide, their irises flickering for a moment in luminescent blue until it went out completely and his claws retracted. A low whine slithered out of the tense throat. John allowed himself a slow grin, letting the corners of his eyes crinkle in his satisfaction as Derek slid off of Stiles and stood up on shaky legs, eyes jumping from Peter to John and back again.

The Sheriff did not turn to take in the look on the older werewolf’s face but it obviously was encouraging the pup, for he made his way slowly but steadily over to John, ducking his head a little as if to try and make his large frame seem smaller.

When he was finally within reach, John stretched his arm out, catching Derek’s neck and pulling him into a slow burning kiss.

“Such a good boy,” he praised against the other’s mouth and Derek stumbled awkwardly over his own words as he stuttered, “Th-thank... yh- you...”

John waited for a heartbeat, thinking Derek would actually call him ‘daddy’, but after a few moments the pup closed his mouth without uttering the word, an embarrassed blush crawling up his neck. He obviously needed more coaxing – and the Sheriff was a patient man. He grinned at the wolf and scratched him behind the ears.

“How about we sit back for a moment and enjoy the show? Hm? You have to be exhausted...” his voice became rough and grating at the last, eyes sweeping down to where Derek’s panties were still moist from him undoubtedly playing with Peter. “A little pup like you shouldn’t be overexerted, don’t you think?” he cooed, hand slipping from behind Derek’s ear to underneath his chin, rubbing the rough, short hair of the man’s beard.

Derek’s eyes fluttered shut for a second, shoulders getting soft and drooping down as he sagged a little into himself, making his marvellous body even smaller. Following an instinct, John purred, “You want to be taken care of, kid? I could do that... Will you let me?”

Derek’s breathy, almost hopeful, “Yes” was more question than answer but the Sheriff took it and ran with it, grasping the younger man’s hand and leading him over to the couch where he sat down and pulled the pup down next to him, gently manhandling him until he was snuggled into his side.

Looking over to Peter, he realized the wolf had actually waited, hands still curled into tight fists. His chest was moving in deep heaving breaths as if he had been running for too long. Peter’s eyes were still glowing a dangerous red – and yet, he was waiting for John to give the OK; for him to tell him it was alright to go and inspect his son.

The Sheriff breathed deeply, arm coming up to absently rub at Derek’s neck while he locked eyes with Peter. Yes, the man was most of the time a ticking time bomb; but he also knew where the lines were drawn; and when it was about their boys, Peter _could_ be very gentle.

“Calm down a little,” John ordered nonetheless and watched Peter’s jaw straining as he bit his teeth together and pulled the wolf a little back. Only when his eyes were once again their normal colour did the Sheriff look away and towards Stiles who was still crouching on the floor, looking like a rabbit in front of a snake but – a look down the boy’s belly confirmed it – very much interested in what was happening.

“Alright,” he said easily, turning his head and pressing a kiss to Derek’s temple while keeping his eyes on Peter as the man immediately turned back to Stiles, slowly stalking towards the boy. It was good to know that he still was the driving force of all of them. Had either of the wolves not listened to him, John would have cancelled everything – as hard as that was with the deliciously clad body of Derek currently pressing against him. However, the safety of Stiles was the top priority here.

“Such a beautiful, little pup,” Peter was now saying, voice raspy and low as he pulled of the V-neck he had worn and threw it carelessly to the side. Stiles was staring, brown eyes even wider than usual and pink lips wet where he had licked them in his nervous anticipation. “I wonder how long you’ve hidden _this_ secret from us...”

Peter got into a crouch in front of the boy and Stiles, agitated already, slid onto his knees, raising his ass and drawing all their gazes to the swaying, black tail just barely brushing the small of his back with the curved tip. John could not see Peter’s expression but his hiss sounded filthy and promising as he ground out, “Dirty bitch. Are you in heat for me? Hm? Gonna submit to your Alpha?”

At that, Derek began squirming at John’s side, drawing his attention away from wolf and human in order to look at the pup who had one broad hand shoved down the front of his delicate panties and was palming his cock, raising his hips into the dirty grind of the heel of his hand. The Sheriff softly clicked his tongue, turning his body towards the boy and reaching out to lay his own hand across the fabric stretched across the frantically rubbing one and still it.

“Hey...” he murmured as Derek managed to rip his gaze away from their new puppy and to the man at his side, eyes large and lost in his lust, “You still with me?”

Derek bit his lower lip, teeth almost shining white against the darkness of his lips and the black stubble. “Yes, I’m... I just...” His eyes flicked briefly away towards the picture of his uncle with Stiles and back to John, “I need it so badly... he looks so good... like pack.”

John grinned with one corner of his mouth and moved to grasp Derek’s wrist and gently pull his hand out of the panties. When the pup whined in despair, he shushed him, pressing his lips to the other man’s temple and whispering against the heated skin, “Let _me_ take care of that for you...”

With that, he rearranged them until Derek was sitting sideways with his back pressed against John’s front and he could easily slip his arm around the trim waist and reverently stroke across the lace and hard plane of the corset before dipping lower and teasing his fingers across the straining and still covered erection.

The pup let his head drop backwards against John’s shoulder, the sound coming out of his throat now decidedly happier than the one from earlier while his hips gently swayed upwards into the touch. Derek was obviously content to softly be teased along the edges of desperation for the moment – which was nice, since that meant they could keep watching Peter and Stiles in the process.

And John definitely wanted to see his little boy get mounted by an Alpha and pounded into the ground...

Looking over, the Sheriff realized that Peter and Stiles were moving location. The sight of the thin, black leash wrapped around Peter’s fist while he guided the crawling boy to the middle of the room was... yeah. It was something else. Suddenly feeling way too hot in his clothes, John had to squirm in order to get his jacket off and roll the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows without dislodging the whining pup that was practically wriggling in his lap.

God he was a lucky man.

“So obedient,” Peter was now musing, leash taut between the collar and his fist, forcing Stiles to crane his neck and look up at him. “Have you been trained? Has the Sheriff taught you how to walk on the leash like a good cumslut?”

The wolf’s eyes flicked to the man in question while he raised one leg and negligently pushed the low table to the side that had been standing behind him and blocking the centre of the plush carpet.

“Of course he’s been trained,” John drawled lazily, fingers coaxing Derek’s hard shaft upright into a thick line snuggled against his lower abdomen, then slipped them further down to cup the tight balls barely covered by the lace. The pup’s hips jumped against his hold but the rattling moan out of his throat sounded very appreciative of the move.

Searching for Stiles’ gaze and locking on to the nervous eyes, John continued, “But he’s so eager, he barely needed it, didn’t you?”

The boy seemed to settle a little more at the praise, tongue darting out for the umpteenth time to wet already moist lips and a soft yipping coming out of his throat before he could have held it back, face flushing beet red.

Peter’s gaze had been lingering appreciatively on the display of the Sheriff and Derek but was now snapping back to Stiles. The grin spreading on his face could only be called predatory.

“Is that so?” he murmured, guiding the young man further onto the soft carpet and watching the tail sway with each and every movement of those slim hips. It was a titillating sight for sure.

“Let’s see exactly how eager you are, hm?” Peter purred, letting the leash fall and stamping down on it with one bare foot, yanking Stiles unceremoniously down with the suddenly shortened length. A gasp of surprise that wasn’t exactly canine, was wrenched out of the boy’s throat but all were in favour of ignoring this little titbit.

While Peter started in on opening his own jeans, John shifted his attention back to the boy in his arms. Derek’s heavy lidded eyes were riveted on the display in front of them, his moist lips open to help him pant hot breaths. One of his hands was curled into the Sheriff’s jeans, gripping the fabric loosely, while the other was clamped around the forearm of the fondling hand, seemingly just needing to hold on to something while he could keep his lower body still.

“You okay there, boy?” John whispered into the ear closest to him, dragging his lips across the shell. Derek gasped as if he had forgotten for a second where he was and shuddered once all over.

“I...I...” he began, hips straining wordlessly up, searching for more pressure.

“Hmm?” John hummed, squeezing the pup’s balls lovingly and sliding his hand upwards once more, dragging fingers along the hard ridge of the erection. Derek’s mouth fell open in to a round, obscene ‘o’ of pleasure.

“More... please, please more,” he whimpered, eyes clamped shut and his teeth grit together as if in pain. John shushed him, pressing his cheek against the pup’s, so he could look down that delectable body and see what he was doing.

“Of course, darling boy... just need to ask your daddy. I’ll take good care of you, I promised, didn’t I?” he purred, playing for just a second with the waistband of the blue panties before easing them gently away from Derek’s weeping cock head and shoving them down.

Derek’s whine was wrecked – and John was quite sure it was more because of his words than because of the newfound freedom of the leaking shaft. He hummed tunelessly as he hooked the elastic band beneath the pup’s heavy balls, giving them a gentle stroke before cupping his hand around the heavy, thick shaft flopping along Derek’s belly and Corset, smearing it with pre-cum.

The pup’s grip on his forearm slowly became crushing and painful but it was still not enough to incite the Sheriff into removing it from his person.

A strangely incomprehensible gurgling sound had John look up from the whining pup and towards the other two occupants of the room. Peter was naked now, the image of the strong, absolutely masculine body shooting a stab of pleasure through John. The wolf was slowly slinking around Stiles on his hands and the balls of his feet – he looked elegant and dangerous at the same time while he snuffled along Stiles’ neck and his shoulders – scenting the vibrating boy just like Derek had done.

As he looked on, John’s hand started in on a slow rhythm, pumping the fat shaft in his grip lazily, watching his son getting thoroughly inspected by a werewolf. An Alpha at that.

“Can you make noises?” Peter growled, nipping sharply into Stiles’ ribcage and making the boy twist reflexively away with a sound between exclamation and yowl. “Make a noise for me,” the wolf demanded, licking across the perfect impression his teeth had left on the fluttering ribcage and then nosing along it, further down, rubbing his cheek and the underside of his chin against the curve of the boy’s hip.

When Stiles hesitated for the barest second, the Alpha raised one hand, slowly scratching down the boy’s back with deadly claws – not injuring him but making him shiver nonetheless.

“Come on. Be a good pup. Growl for me,” he rasped and then proceeded to place his head on the plush right cheek of Stiles’ ass, watching the swaying tail and waiting for Stiles to comply. John thought Peter looked just like a good dog himself in that moment.

Stiles’ panting was loud in the room, his blush once more crawling up his chest and dusting his pale skin a charming pink. With every harsh exhale there was a soft whining ripped out of his throat – but not the desired growling.

Peter huffed.

“Come on, pup... show me how well you behave. You want to be good for your Alpha, don’t you?” he cajoled, bringing one hand up and between the boy’s legs. John could not exactly see what he was doing but from the way the tail suddenly swayed prominently and Stiles’ back became stiff before arcing downwards, angling his ass back, he could assume the wolf was manipulating the plug inside the puffy, tender passage.

Stiles tilted his head to the side, his mouth open and wet and his eyes blissfully closed. Derek moaned out a yearning, eager sound, thrusting up sharply into the loose grip of John’s hand, slippery from the copious amount of juices dribbling from the swollen head.

“You like this? The way he looks?” John breathed into the pup’s ear and grinned at the whined affirmative, Derek’s hand loosening at last its hard grasp and slipping down in order to wrap around the hand surrounding his cock. His grip was sloppy – uncoordinated, like he was finally letting go and slipping into the headspace John so loved seeing him in.

“Growl for me... come on...” Peter was coaxing in the background and Stiles hiccupped softly, once, before drawing a deep, fortifying breath and... Yes, he did growl – softly, high and needy, thrusting his whole body backwards and wriggling his ass just that little bit.

Peter, as if to show just how sweet the sound had been, echoed the noise – his own growl deep; dirty, filthy and grinding against his vocal cords, seducing Derek into answering it with a low rumble of his own.

John let his thumb slide over the wet head of the pup’s erection, swirling the moisture around and listening to the gurgling moan out of his throat. Shifting his hips just that little bit, the Sheriff hissed at the tightness in his jeans. He had absolutely forgotten about his own erection in the face of all the gorgeous men surrounding him, but...

“You wanna be good, Derek? Want to be a good boy for your daddy?” he whispered into the temple of the pup and the answering nod was frantic – immediate. There was no hang-up from the magic word John had used and the pride he felt at that almost made him choke up.

“How ‘bout you get me a little more comfortable, then?” he coaxed and the pup slowly twisted around; the usually tightly leashed body loose and clumsy from his lust. He almost toppled face first into John’s lap had he not steadied the younger man at his broad shoulders. Derek’s eyes were wide and glazed, staring up at the human from beneath moist eyelashes.

“Yes... yes, daddy,” he breathed and it was the sweetest sound to be uttered with that deep, masculine voice. John’s head fell back on a hiss, one hand sliding into the pup’s neck to grip it tightly while uncoordinated fingers started fumbling with the opening mechanism of his jeans.

The noises coming from the middle of the room had devolved into animalistic growls and huffs. Forcing John’s eyes back open, so he could peer towards his son and Peter. The realization that the snarky Alpha had obviously ceased any pretences and was no longer talking – just burying his face in the crack of Stiles as and making subtle sniffing noises while the tip of his nose nudged at the wet rim of the boy’s ass – was heady like a good wine and made his grip on Derek’s neck only strengthen more, the pup whining as he ripped clumsily at the zipper of the Sheriff’s jeans.

John could not take his eyes away from the crouching figures – from the way Peter just let himself devolve into a wolf in human skin, unashamedly sniffing around the twitching, glistening muscle. Stiles was bright red at being scented _there_. His frantic eyes twitched around the room, widening just that little bit more when they caught on to John and Derek watching the spectacle. A bashful blush and embarrassed whine was accompanied by Stiles ducking his head and trying to twitch away from the sniffing Alpha at his back.

Peter growled, hands snapping up and grabbing clumsily for the slim hips, holding them in a grip that dimpled the supple flesh. A high and needy whimper floated through the air towards the couch, making Derek pause in his effort to try and ease John’s cock out of his underwear in a way that wouldn’t accidentally castrate him in the pup’s haste to get to the thick flesh. His head came up and turned blindly towards the other boy, keening in sympathy and shifting his hips from left to right like a cat preparing to strike.

Stiles’ head fell between his shaking biceps. The embarrassment of being seen handled like a real dog seemed not to be enough, though, to keep him from raising his ass just that little bit higher and spreading his knees just that teensy bit further into a spread that made him look cheap and irresistible. To the contrary – it seemed to stoke his lust even more; to exhilarate him in his knowledge that the two wolves were obviously more than enjoying his little play and willing to take him on as a real canine.

Peter let out a pleased chuffing sound, his hands falling away again in order to brace himself on all fours and curl his fingers into the long strands of the soft carpet. His face travelled just a little upwards in the boy’s crack, jaw starting to move and... John could sadly not see it, but the wet, lapping sounds and Stiles’ wildly curling toes were enough to ensure him that, yes, Peter Hale was licking filthily at his son’s sloppy opening, stretched obscenely around the plug and getting it dripping wet.

Derek let out a triumphant howl as John’s dick finally sprang free of its confines – big and juicy looking. The hand he wrapped around his prize was trembling in its eagerness, just letting the fat head sit proudly on display. It was red and starting to weep pearly drops. The obscene display seemed to look absolutely delicious to the pup, since he ducked down with a strangled moan to burrow his head in John’s lap and swallow it with a wide open mouth.

John’s eyes fell closed as wet, unholy heat engulfed him and the hand on Derek’s neck slid upwards and into the full, black hair, gripping tightly – gently easing the sinful mouth further down his twitching shaft.

“Such a good boy... yes... you can take dick like a fucking champ, can’t you? Taking your daddy’s cock like you were born for it... were you? Were you born for this cock, sweet boy?” he rasped, the pads of his fingers rubbing idly at the pup’s scalp. Derek moaned a delirious affirmative, spit slipping out of the corners of his mouth and slicking down the straining shaft. He sounded stuffed full – which was a perfect way to sound for Derek.

The pup’s eyelids were fluttering, those ridiculously long eyelashes trembling on the high cheekbones as he moaned in abandon, eagerly trying to swallow even more down and choking himself in the process since he wasn’t yet as skilled in the arts as they all tried to teach him.

“Easy, there. Easy,” John cooed, pulling Derek back and easing him off his twitching dick with a tight grip on his hair. The pup whined pitifully, tongue stretching out and trying to get a last drop of pre-cum that was trembling precariously on the bulbous tip.

“Daddy...” Derek whispered, voice husky and vibrating in that beautiful throat. John groaned, bringing his other hand up and gently tracing the wet lower lip with his thumb. The pup immediately latched on to the digit, sucking it into his mouth and laving his tongue around the pad while frantic, glazed eyes looked up reverently at the Sheriff.

“Oh Derek... you’re such a well behaved pup?” John whispered roughly, leaning down and pressing a kiss into the unruly hair. “You’re so eager... such a good, good boy.”

The green eyes fluttered shut again at the praise, Derek’s mouth falling open as he moaned shamelessly like a slut.

John grinned, eyes rolling towards what was happening in the middle of the room and a genuine rumble of satisfaction making itself known as he saw Peter easing the butt plug and the swaying tail out of Stiles’ channel, throwing it to the side and instantly mounting the boy like he was his personal bitch.

“Look,” John growled, turning Derek’s face towards the spectacle with a hand on his chin, “Look at them. Aren’t they beautiful?”

Derek nuzzled into the hand, eyes fixed on his uncle and Stiles as if looking away could physically hurt.

Peter dwarfed Stiles just like Derek had done. His greater, muscled bulk looked obscene and perfect atop the boy whose arms just sagged away at Peter’s first hump against his rear; the wolf’s erection slapping in a thick, hot line against the supple buttocks. Growling in triumphant glee, Peter utilized the new position, bringing his weight down fully on his hands which were braced left and right to Stiles’ shoulders.

“Please... Please I...” Derek’s hips stuttered in abortive thrusts, desperation starting to spiral higher, his chest expanding forcefully above the constriction of the corset. His mouth was hanging sloppily open, a thin strand of saliva glistening in his stubble where it had slipped out the corner of his mouth.

John shushed him gently, thumb stroking away the drool, while his other hand slid down the pup’s back and unceremoniously into the back of his panties. It wasn’t hard to find the pup’s cunt. He only had to follow the trail of moistness Peter had left behind. He rubbed with two fingers against Derek’s hole, easily slipping in since the muscle was still stretched enough to allow him to awkwardly thrust into the used orifice.

It was like flipping a switch. Suddenly the room was filled with the whines and moans of two desperate, young men; unashamedly keening and begging so prettily with their loving tormentors, that when Peter looked up and his lust heavy eyes landed on John, they both just grinned – sharp and somehow soft at the same time, full of adoration for the two boys that gave themselves over so beautifully and...

“Daddy... Daddy, please...” Derek’s voice was _wrecked_ as he whimpered the words against the Sheriff’s chest and clenched his rim erratically around the intrusion. John could definitely not hold back the rough moan the words and action wrenched out of his throat.

“Damn... yes... yes, kid. ‘Course.” He started struggling up, only barely getting the desperate pup to let go of him because uncoordinated hands kept pawing on his clothes and soft protestations and needy begging made it nearly impossible.

“Come on, gorgeous. Get over there,” John coaxed with a husky voice that screamed sex, pointing towards where Peter was humping Stiles dry, dick slapping against the boy’s asscrack, cheeks and upper thighs, hips swivelling in instinctual increments that were absolutely canine. The older wolf was obviously trying to get inside the gaping, dripping hole without utilizing his hands – Stiles’ moans and whimpers just this side of sane as he was forced to submit to the will of the Alpha.

“And get yourself ready for me, will you?” John growled when the pup seemed to finally realize what had been said, whispering “yes, daddy,” before struggling to force his limbs into some kind of submission, crawling over to the other two men on all fours.

Fuck, John was a lucky bastard.

Because this? These three perfect men just trying to get themselves off and not quite succeeding? They were all his. _His_. They _needed_ him because he was the only one level-headed enough in situations like these to get them where their lust-addled brains could not make them go.

He slipped out of his clothes, snagging the bottle of lube from the mantelpiece of the fireplace – and wasn’t that a nice welcoming sight for visitors; instead of a framed picture of family and friends a perpetually nearly empty bottle of slick? – and slowly circled the writhing bodies.

Derek was by now situated on his back at Stiles’ head. He had somehow managed to get his panties off of only one leg so they were still dangling twisted around one bent knee while he tried to shove as many fingers into himself as possible. His and Stiles’ eyes were wide and stupid in their lust – locked together and God only knew what they had to be thinking right now... What they were thinking while they got fucked senseless and _prepared_ to get fucked senseless and – really, what was going on in those devastatingly intelligent heads of theirs while that was happening?

John had to shelf the thought since he had arrived by Peter and needed to stop there, slowly kneeling down behind the man. Frantic little growls and whines slipped out of the thick, straining neck, the gorgeous ass bouncing as he slapped his hips uselessly against Stiles.

John slicked his hand up, reaching around the wolf’s hip and curling it around the hot shaft. Peter was so hard, it had to be painful by now. The Alpha immediately bared his teeth, head snapping around so he could stare with red, blazing eyes at John, snarling at him viciously.

“Shush,” the Sheriff hissed, not unkindly but very strict. “This’ll never get anywhere, otherwise.” The cock in his grip twitched, spurting pre-cum. It only took Peter a second before a soft whine could be heard and he tipped his head back just that little bit – baring his throat to the other man and holding perfectly still to be slicked up and guided towards the gaping entrance he so yearned to have wrapped around his dick like a glove.

John gave that beautiful dick a few additional affectionate strokes, massaging the pads of his fingers beneath the head just like he knew Peter loved. The wolf breathed hard, hips jumping once before stilling again.

It was more than satisfying to know, even this close to wolfing out; barely holding on to his human side... John was still the one calling the shots. _He_ was the one human an _Alpha_ submitted to and the realization was now just as heady as it had been all the times before.

“Good boy,” he praised softly, planting a kiss against the nape of the man’s neck, though he suspected Peter registered nothing of it because suddenly wolf felt the rim catching on the head of his aching dick and just went _rogue_ on Stiles – surging forward and driving inside the boy, making him scream out in surprise and shock to be suddenly so unapologetically _full_.

The rhythm Peter set was breathtaking to behold. He was leaning forward, clamping his teeth around the back of Stiles’ collar and just fucked away into the pliant body. All Stiles could do was hold on for the ride and somehow find enough purchase to hold his ass up and against the punishing thrusts.

“Daddy... Daddyyy please.” John was barely able to rip his eyes away from the sight of Peter’s balls swinging between his spread thighs, slapping against Stiles’ perineum, but the whining was too sweet to ignore. Derek was by now just a mess of lightning blue and midnight black; what looked like his whole hand but was probably three or four fingers thrusting in and out of his cunt with obscene squelching noises, everything just enhanced by his breathy begging.

He was such a lucky man.

John slowly got into motion, his hand lazily stripping his straining erection, spreading the remainder of the lube in the process. He loomed over the pup, staring down at the wrecked, filthy picture he made.

“You ready? Ready for my cock, Derek?” he teased, one corner of his mouth curling up at the way the pup only managed to nod like a man possessed, legs spreading, impossibly, even wider in invitation. Not willing to be left out of the action any longer, the Sheriff gingerly knelt down, coaxing Derek’s hand away and his fingers out of his body.

The sobbing protestations he shushed gently, running his hands up and down the trembling thighs. Their actions were in stark contrast to the wild fucking going on _just beside them_. Stiles, being the fucking amazing boy that he was, managed to shuffle with Peter’s heavy body on top of him just enough forward to start mouthing soothing kisses and sucks into Derek’s cheeks. It was uncoordinated and sloppy, their noses bumping more often than not because of Stiles’ body getting shoved to and fro.

John grinned indulgently at the display of the boys. They were so often teasing and fighting with each other, it was nice to see them affectionate – if rather frantic. He utilized Derek’s momentary inattention to hoist those fucking long, strong legs up on his shoulders, the twisted underwear sliding downwards in the movement and swinging around Derek’s ankle.

The human hummed in satisfaction, eyes heavy lidded and never leaving Derek’s flushed face as he finally slipped into the boy’s wet and perfect pussy. The rim, puffy and red from all the use, stretched like an obscene, red mouth around his cock’s girth.

The pup screamed brokenly, fingers digging into the carpet and mouth open wide to get enough air into his already constricted lungs. Stiles seemed to take it as an invitation to try and lick inside, not quite kissing but still breathing heavily and whining on every stroke of Peter’s dick in his tender passage.

John set a slow rhythm – making Derek feel every centimetre of his dick dragging in and out; stuffing him full again and again with all the cock he could ever want. Making him _take_ it like the boy had been begging for the whole afternoon.

Peter was a growling, powerful beast atop of Stiles, swivelling his hips every now and again in deadly thrusts that found their target dead-on; reducing Stiles into a sobbing mess. The boy had somehow managed to hold himself more or less upright on his elbows, though slowly but surely his arms were starting to shake, slipping away again and again, until Derek suddenly _lunged_ , wrapping his strong arms around the other boy and toppling him over so he was stretched half across the pup’s torso where he could moan and drool onto that perfect, muscled chest.

“God... so perfect... yes...” John praised brokenly, heart hammering in his chest like a sledge hammer as he shoved his hands beneath Derek’s ass and hauled him further up into his lap. He grit his teeth, blinking against the sweat slipping into his eyes as he fucked into the hot, liquid passage opening up for him obediently.

“Gonna wreck you... Gonna wreck you for every cock to come... you’ll... you’ll always have to come to _me_ if you wanna feel anything,” he babbled, not really hearing his own words but needing to _say_ them as the smell and sound of sex filled his head like cotton.

Stiles’ moans were getting high and breathy. He sounded like he was barely able to draw breath from where his face was planted into Derek’s chest, clutching brokenly at the corset, the shoulders, the muscular arms – anything he could get his hands on.

Peter rumbled like the motor of a beautiful, old car – all smooth and dangerous. His face, as John glanced towards him, was twisted into a mask of perfect bliss, lips drawn back and showing his teeth which were now elongated into dangerous fangs but still safely clamped around the collar.

John clamped his jaw shut as the hot grip around his dick rippled and the legs on his shoulders started trembling. He obviously had found the spot that made Derek see stars. The pup’s arms were still around Stiles holding on to him like a lifeline while his mouth was wide open and no sound came further out.

“Fucking beautiful... All of you,” John hissed, leaning just that little bit forward and holding Derek’s hips in a death grip as he moved his pelvis in slow, liquid movements, perfectly and studiously reaming the pup’s ass, trying to find the sensitive spot over and over again. “Every single one of you... Mine. Mine and no one else’s.”

He fucked the most delicious, broken noises out of Derek, making him go louder and louder with each torturously slow thrust. Every now and again his hands had to come up and gently pry Derek’s knees apart again since they started clamping around his head quite viciously.

Suddenly Derek seemed to find his voice back

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” Derek sobbed with every painfully slow drag of the thick cock along his burning, used passage. He could do nothing more than lay there and take it, sharing sloppy licks with Stiles every now and again because the boys were too far gone to actually kiss properly.

Stiles managed to turn his head around, staring wide eyed and seemingly dumbstruck at the other boy’s cock lying untouched and convulsing between his legs and watching his father fuck the living daylights out of the wolf.

It was perfect – all of them so close and in tune to one another’s needs. Even though the older wolf was still fucking like his life depended on it, Stiles simply looked blissful and happy, eyes slanted in satisfaction.

In the end, it was kind of surprising and kind of... not... that Peter was the first to come. His howl of triumph was ear splitting. He snapped his head back, baring his throat and chest in a beautiful, sweat glistening arc as he just ground deeper and deeper into Stiles, not pulling back any longer but seemingly trying to crawl into the boy dick first.

That Derek would just come out of sympathy with his fellow wolf, though, was not surprising at all – they had been too attuned to one another for the past couple of hours. The only warning they got was the stiffening of the pup’s body and his bitten off scream of completion.

Stiles, who was still watching the action, catching splatters of semen on his cheeks but obviously not caring one bit.

John closed his eyes, breathing through clenched teeth as Derek’s channel clutched at him, trembling and convulsing erratically. He debated with himself whether to ride the pup’s orgasm out and take up his fucking when he was farther away from the danger of coming any second now, when there was a soft whine of “Daddy...”. It sounded close to tears and this time it wasn’t Derek, who was fucked out and perfectly pliant in his post-coital haze, knees falling so wide open his legs slid from John’s shoulders, but _Stiles_ , buried beneath a still panting Peter and sounding wrecked and pleading and...

Yeah. John had a boy to care for. He pulled out of Derek and gently manhandled his legs to one side, curling them both around his right hip and slipping back into the twitching passage made devastatingly tight again by the new positioning of the legs.

The pup was merely grunting, letting everything happen with the languid indulgence of someone who had gotten a mind-shattering orgasm.

“Just... a....second...” John ground out between grit teeth, trying to console the whining boy who was wriggling beneath Peter. Peter, who was now pulling back and began gently lapping at the puffy, leaking hole, making Stiles howl. However, it was just not enough to get him off.

John clamped his eyes shut, teeth digging into his lower lip as he started riding Derek in earnest, reaming the boy with his thick cock and loving the pulses of electricity running through his abdomen and shooting to the tip of his cock, until his orgasm exploded in a myriad of colours behind his eyelids, leaving him reeling for a moment. His cock felt like a syrupy stream of lava was slowly oozing out of it.

It left him feeling tingly and oversensitive. He hissed as he very gingerly pulled out of Derek, the head of his still half-hard cock connected via a line of cum to the obscenely pouting hole of the pup. He yearned to let one of the boys taste it but Stiles sounded like he was about to pop an artery, so he had to put that thought aside for another time.

Shuffling over on weak knees, he and Peter managed with arms wobbly from their orgasms to somehow get the sobbing mess of a boy onto his back. His sweet cock was an angry red line, curved gracefully up towards his flat stomach and dripping pre-cum down until it pooled in the bellybutton.

While Peter dived back in, licking and sucking his own cum out of the howling youth, the Sheriff bowed his head just as deep to unceremoniously suck his boy’s cock deep into his mouth. There was an explosion of salt and musk on his tongue, making shudders of satisfaction race up and down his spine.

Stiles had to be totally _gone_ for him to produce this much slick and the sounds his kid made were just this side of being pained.

It did not take long, really. Just a good, long suck and one gentle roll of the tight balls with careful fingers had the frantic you man whimper his orgasm out in broken, thankful sobs. His cream was thick and salty where it coated John’s tongue just before he swallowed it down.

The older men gently eased off as Stiles started twitching in hyper sensitivity, slowly crawling over and lying down with heads pillowed on thighs or stomachs of the wrecked boys in a utterly satisfied puppy pile.

Yeah. John was one lucky son of a bitch. Finally.

**Author's Note:**

> What the hell. You won't even believe the times I sat here and whispered during writing 'just stop! why is this getting so long?!' but oh well. 
> 
> Still here? Great! Please leave a little something on your way out, will you?
> 
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> 
> Very important edit: The actual foursome in the end was heavily, HEAVILY influenced by a delicious, dirty, bad, bad, wrong (sooo good) fantasy of MoMoMomma. Without that this whole thing really wouldn't have started because I'm not nearly as talented in coming up with such deliciousness. Seriously.


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